Birthdays are for celebrating
And for parents in some ways they are also for mourning.
So many moments, those lived and those missed are gone not to ever come back
But each day new opportunities for living unfold
Our children are, before our eyes growing old
Still a baby, in some ways, not all
each day more a boy, a personality on toddling feet
smiles that constantly seem to be revealing new teeth
Hands and knees once used for crawling now aid in climbing
just about everything in sight
Knowledge tangibly forming in repetition
mimicking, recognition.
An enthusiastic wave in proper response to someone's 'Hello'
...my 'Hello'
Mamma's and Dadda's with purpose
Intentional hugs
Intentional disobedience
Intention
We celebrate with parties, and presents
with those we love around us
food and fun and story after story of a memory filled year
but the mourning, it happens alone
After everyone has gone, wrapping paper strewn across the floor
that once small bundle, sleeping on his own upstairs
in his very own bed
one with bars, pacifiers and stuffed animals contained within
but a bed nonetheless
Counting down the days
not wanting them to pass
How?
Tell me how a year can go by so fast.
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